I MET JULIO outside the main gate of St. John’s Academy. He sat under a waiting shed smoking a cigarette, his eyes glaring at the city skyline. Amidst the car fumes, his polo shirt looked clean and pressed, which was weird considering that he mentioned being on patrol. Didn’t he need to be more rugged for that? Nevertheless, he looked nicer in polo shirts than in hoodies; he should consider wearing more of the former often.

Julio lifted his head as he let out a puff of smoke. He killed the cigarette when he saw me.

“Ah, there you are,” he said.

I waved at him. “Hey.”

“Well, you look nice today.”

He said it in the most deadpan voice that could ever be associated with those words. Nevertheless, it still made me melt inside, and I tried my best to hide it.

“Thanks,” I said sheepishly. “You, too…”

I cringed at myself. What else was there to say?

Julio smiled and threw his cigarette butt into a rusty old trash bin.

“Let’s get going,” he said.

We climbed into his car and drove down the stretch of highway connecting the Metropolis and the outskirts of town, a place Mom had specifically told me to avoid. For once, the trip wasn’t silent and awkward. Julio turned on the radio and put on an upbeat station that played chart-topping hits and electronic dance music.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” I commented.

“Why do you say that?” Julio asked.

“Music. You’re playing music in your car. I don’t think you’ve done that before.”

He shrugged. “Well, why wouldn’t I be? The Spanish House hasn’t seen an attack in weeks. Everyone has been a little bit happier and livelier these past couple of days. So, before we are randomly thrown into battle again, we’re taking the time to ourselves.”

The song changed on the radio. On the first few notes, Julio jumped in his seat and turned the volume up.

“Sweet,” he beamed. “I love this song.”

Then, as the raspy female singer began to blurt out the lyrics, Julio started singing—and I was surprised by how good his voice sounded. He wasn’t as good as Rachael, but he hit most of the high notes fairly well. He even started dancing a little in the driver’s seat, banging his head and bopping his shoulders. Then, he caught me watching him, and he stopped and cleared his throat.

“No, no, go on,” I laughed. “You sounded great.”

He pouted. “But you’re laughing at me.”

“I won’t laugh. I swear.”

He hesitated, but after a few good seconds, he picked up the song’s beat again and sang as if I weren’t in the car with him. In a way, I hated him for that. In the past few days, I had been trying to shake off my feelings for him, but there I was, thinking that his singing voice was adorable.

I sighed. I just couldn’t help it.

At The MacGuffin, conversations overlapped, filling the café with lighthearted banter and amorous exchanges. Waiters whisked around the room carrying steaming hot food. A group of office workers clinked their bottles as Julio and I made our way to the front counter.

Ms. Louise manned the cashier, taking orders from an elderly couple. She spotted us behind the line of customers and gave us a little wave. We gave our proper hellos when we made it to the front of the line.

“Hey, long time no see,” she said. “Sorry, can’t talk right now. When we advertised unlimited rice and soup, people started crowding the door.”

A customer waved his hand at Ms. Louise. “Excuse me. Where’s my extra rice?”

“Takahiro,” Ms. Louise called. “Table seven wants extra rice.”

“Coming!”

Takahiro came from the opposite end of the restaurant, pushing a trolley with a bowl of steaming hot rice. He approached table seven and gave the waiting customer his serving.

“Anyway,” Ms. Louise said, turning back to Julio and me. “What will we be having tonight?”

After taking our orders, Julio and I took our seats at a table in the middle of the area. All of the booths were already occupied, but it didn’t matter. We could be surrounded by strangers, and I would still be able to enjoy Julio’s company.

Despite how busy things were, it didn’t take long for our food to arrive. Takahiro brought it to us on a tray, and when he noticed who his customers were, he smiled.

“Hey, guys,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” I replied. “Busy night, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’d love to stay and chat, but I can’t. Have a few more orders to attend to.”

Along with our orders were two complimentary bowls of soup. He placed them down and waved, rushing to the next table.

Julio and I ate in silence. We must have both been starving when the food arrived—well, I know I was. For reasons I couldn’t explain, everything seemed more delicious that night. Every bite gave me some sense of comfort, and for a while, I had forgotten how far I was from St. John’s. The sun was beginning to set, and I didn’t care.

Then, my phone vibrated in my bag.

I panicked at the thought of my parents calling me. How were they going to react to hearing so many people in the background?

I pulled out my phone and craned my neck to the door of the restroom to see if it was vacant. I decided that it would be best to answer my phone in a secluded area so that there would be little to no noise. But when I looked at my phone, I swallowed.

The caller was unknown.

I didn’t know what was worse: receiving a call from my parents or a strange number. Nevertheless, I picked up the call, readying myself to drop it when things got strange.

“Hello?” I said.

For a while, I heard nothing but static. I was about to hang up when a voice sounded off on the other line.

“Hello,” it said. A lady was on the phone. She had the sweetest, most angelic voice I’d ever heard. “I heard you were looking for me, Quinn.”

I was scared. The caller knew my name. But instead of hanging up—which was what I should have done—I let out a deep breath.

“Who are you?” I asked the caller, my voice stern.

“Quinn,” Julio said, furrowing his brows. “Is something wrong?”

But I ignored him. I listened intently to what the caller had to say.

“Oh, who else can I be?” the lady said, laughing a little. “Allow me to introduce myself. Hello, Quinn. I’m the Author…”

That had to be some sort of joke.

I didn’t respond immediately. All sorts of thoughts rushed through my head, drowning out all of The MacGuffin’s noise. I wondered what I looked like back there. From across the table, I saw Julio’s concerned expression. His mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

Then, a faint voice escaped my lips, and for a moment, it was the only noise that mattered.

“The Author…?” I asked.

Despite my hushed, broken voice, the lady on the line heard me loud and clear.

“Yes, my dear,” she said. “I’ve been away from the Metropolis for a long time, and I can see that things have gone astray in my absence. I know that you especially have been affected by that, and I want to help you out.”

“H—how did you know that?” I stammered. “And how did you reach me?”

“I know my creations, Quinn, and therefore, I most definitely know how to reach them. I don’t want you to live in fear anymore. That was not how I wrote you.”

There was something in the lady’s voice that was soothing and comforting. My initial skepticism had turned into hope and longing.

I was afraid that I’d forgotten what those feelings were like.

“I’ve returned to my previous residence in Sky Towers on Paradox Road,” the lady added. “Drop by anytime you want. I’ll be waiting.”

And that was when the line went dead.

I was shaking when I put down my phone. Goosebumps covered my arms, and the hairs on the back of my neck were standing. I let out a few deep breaths, processing what I just heard. Then, I couldn’t stop smiling. I looked at Julio, expecting to see the same glee I felt, but instead, his brows were creased, and his eyes were narrow.

“Quinn,” he said. “Did I hear that right? The Author? As in the Author?”

Slowly, I nodded my head. I laughed, and it was the most genuine laugh I had probably heard from myself.

“Yup,” I said. “I can’t believe it myself.”

Julio blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“Gee, I hope not.”

“Then what did the caller say?”

I recapped everything the lady had said. I told him about how she had moved back to Sky Towers and was waiting for me to meet her.

“She said she wanted to help me, Julio,” I said. “She mentioned something about things going astray. Can she mean Cassandra? Will this finally all be over?”

Julio held up a palm. “Whoa, hang on. You’re going to believe some lady on the phone?”

“Well, we believed in a library card. There aren’t even that many libraries around anymore.”

“That was because Cassandra broke into the Archives and stole it. Anyway, try calling the number again.”

I opened my phone’s log and dialed the number. An automated message told me that the caller ID was invalid.

“As expected,” Julio said.

The sudden sense of hope I felt depleted, but I still hang on to it.

“But what if it’s real, Julio?” I pressed. “I didn’t imagine that call, nor did I make up what she said. Remember what we talked about at the hospital? Imagine how our lives would be once this battle with Cassandra is over.”

Julio pursed his lips and pushed his food around with his spoon.

“I’ll have the Spanish House investigate before I bring you there. I still think this is strange, especially since no one lives in that unit at Sky Towers, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” I added.

He smiled faintly in response.

As Julio and I finished our food, I couldn’t stop daydreaming about how much better life in the Metropolis would be now that the Author had most likely returned. It was different from when we found the other half of the library card. I just heard what could be the Author’s voice. The sound of it tickled my senses, and if I closed my eyes, I could see light at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

It was real this time. I had to believe it.

Later, we thanked Ms. Louise and Takahiro for the food and stepped out of The MacGuffin.

“Hey, thanks for tonight,” I told him.

“Thanks for coming along,” Julio said. He stared at the empty street before us, placing his hands in his pockets. “Before we go, can you come with me somewhere?”

I was a bit hesitant. It was getting pretty late, and my parents could message me at any moment. I could probably lie about where I was, but I would feel pretty guilty about it.

“Sure,” I finally said. “Where are we going?”

He must have noticed the apprehension in my voice. “Don’t worry. It won’t take long.”

He began walking down the tiny, cracked sidewalk (or whatever was left of it) and climbed up a polished stone staircase leading up to an open iron gate. I followed him into the dim entrance and found myself at the end of a long, carpeted aisle with wooden pews lining the sides. At the other end was an altar with a large wooden crucifix in the center. Seventeen years earlier, my parents got married in that exact same place. There must have been flowers and smiling guests everywhere. But that night, Julio and I were alone in the dark.

Julio knelt at one of the pews and folded his hands in prayer. I sat near him and watched his lips move to silent words. He stayed that way for a while, and as I waited for him, I looked at the serene faces of the saints that adorned the church’s walls, checking how many I recognized. I came to realize that a handful of them had unfair lives.

Then, Julio got up and sat beside me, letting out a deep sigh.

“I came here last December,” he began. “Before visiting the address on the library card, I prayed that it would lead somewhere. And tonight, I asked for the same thing. I haven’t done this in a long time. I lost faith in pretty much everything when I lost Rachael.”

“So, the possibility of finding the Author led you here?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I’ve been coming here regularly for months now. It began shortly after Cassandra first attacked the Spanish House. I came here and asked for forgiveness for what I’d done. It was the dead of the night; I wanted to be alone. I cried until my eyes were sore and prayed until my knees were stiff. I didn’t go home for days. Viv was so worried about me.”

“I see,” I said, nodding as I took in everything he’d said. “I get that you feel bad for what happened, but you don’t have to feel responsible for Cassandra’s actions. She’s her own person, and she chose to be a horrible one.”

“So, you don’t think I’m horrible for bringing Cassandra back?”

“I think it’s horrible that happened, true, but I probably would have done the same. Running away from something just seems easier than facing it. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have stayed sane in the Metropolis without you around. I don’t think you realize this, but you’ve helped me a lot.”

“Really? I feel like I’ve only been pushing you to use your powers.”

“I’m not gonna lie. I’ve felt pressured around you because of that, but I would still like to be able to control them someday. I don’t want to keep relying on sheer chance whenever something bad happens.”

Julio smiled. “Hey, you’ve already brought us out of unpleasant situations. Your powers may not be perfect, but you’ve saved me multiple times, Quinn. I don’t think I’ve thanked you enough.”

“Well, don’t mention it.”

“We’ve got each other’s backs now. We can’t let Cassandra win.”

And with that, I nodded in response.

We sat in silence for a while, listening to the wind blow through the ornate windows. The street lights outside faintly illuminated a stained-glass depiction of angels descending from the sky. I stared at it, mesmerized as I tried to make out the details in the dark.

Then, my eyes lost focus.

“You know,” I heard Julio say. “I’m starting to think that maybe your powers are designed to work that way. Perhaps they’re there for you just when you need them most, and that’s what matters, right?”

I looked at him, and he was a blurry smudge of color amidst shades of blue and gray. I was aware of how his brows creased and how his mouth opened to call my name.

But the world had fallen silent, and I completely lost sense of everything around me.

I didn’t need an explanation for what had happened.

The moment I fluttered my eyes open, I sat upright, looking toward the nearest window. Panic rose in my chest when I saw the sun over the city skyline, casting long purple shadows on a bed that wasn’t mine.

Nevertheless, I recognized the room I was in: the clean walls, books and trinkets collecting dust on the shelves, and the withering succulents on the window sill. I was in Ms. Louise’s apartment. Julio must have brought me here after passing out inside the church. I was still in the clothes I wore to The MacGuffin, and with that, I began to wonder how long it had been since then.

How much time had Cassandra taken from me?

I found my small bag on a chair next to my bed. I pulled out my phone, bracing myself for what I was about to see on the screen.

And it was just as bad as I thought it would be.

Notifications filled my lock screen, and they were all from my parents. They had been trying to reach me until the ungodly hours of the early morning, wondering where I was and why I hadn’t called.

Their anger began to show in the more recent messages. They demanded a reason as to why I’d been ignoring them and suspected that I wasn’t at St. John’s. I had broken their rules and their trust, and I was going to pay the price for what I’d done.

I was so anxious that I couldn’t even pick up their exact words. I just scrolled through the endless queue of messages until I was going so fast that I couldn’t read the text anymore. Suddenly, my calling screen jumped at me as my ringtone blared in my ears. I was prepared to ignore my parents until I figured something out, but then, I realized that it was Harumi who was trying to reach me. So, with shaky hands, I picked up the call.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Harumi asked. “I didn’t sleep waiting for you last night. You didn’t call. What happened? Are you okay?”

I sighed. I wished my parents sounded more like Harumi.

“My weird sickness came back,” I said. “I passed out while having dinner with my friend. I’m in his aunt’s apartment right now.”

Was Ms. Louise considered an aunt to Julio? Anyway, it was the best kinship I could come up with.

“But I’m fine now,” I pressed. “I—”

“Good,” Harumi said. “You’d better come back as soon as you can. Philip saw your parents downstairs.”

What?”

It took a minute for those words to sink in. My parents were at St. John’s while I was kilometers away from campus.

“Phil recognized your dad,” Harumi added. “He said he saw him talking to the principal near the girls’ dorms. They’re probably going to ask me what happened and where you are. Quinn, what do I say? Who were you even with last night? Please, Quinn. I don’t know how to face them…”

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